Another Adventure
by TunaForDesert
Summary: Alternate ending where Bilbo died with Thorin.


"Burglar…"

Bilbo opened his eyes with all the effort he could muster. His body hurt. His head hurt. His feet hurt. Everything hurt, but the sound of Thorin's voice gave him newfound energy to open his eyes, perhaps for the last time.

There was Thorin, lying beside him. Blood and wounds marred his face. Unspeakable pain reflected upon his dull blue eyes.

But Bilbo smiled, for he was here, beside him, at his last moment. His forehead throbbed painfully, but he mustered the best smile he could. They were surrounded by corpses and bathed in blood, but there was nowhere else he would rather be at than Thorin's side.

"Insufferable dwarf…" he whispered.

Thorin coughed, blood trickled down his chin and beard. He slowly moved to take Bilbo's battered hand into his, gripping it for all its worth. Bilbo took a shuddering breath and gripped back.

"Forgive me…" Thorin rasped out. "Forgive me, for bringing this upon you. Forgive me, for taking away all you could have been and had."

"Don't," Bilbo said, a trace of his old indignant self emerged. "Before you and the Company rudely invited yourselves into my smial and…raided my pantry, I was nothing but a middle-aged hobbit waiting for something I thought I'm done with. Adventures. Here, my King Under the Mountain, here is where I belong. With you, with the Company. So…do not apologize for giving me the greatest thing I've ever had."

"I suppose," Thorin sighed, and for a moment, Bilbo was horrified to see his eyes closed, but Thorin opened it again and a feeble smile graced his lips. "I remember something Gandalf said once. He said, death is but another adventure altogether. I will join my forefathers in my Maker's Hall after passing to Mandos until the renewal of the world comes. Where do Hobbits go?"

"The Halls of Mandos await me, too." Bilbo smiled. "After that, the Timeless Halls of Eru, the One, is where I must go."

"Ah," Thorin said. "I see."

"Fíli would be a good king, as long as Kíli is beside him."

"My sister-sons, the jewels of my heart. They could have not done me prouder."

Bilbo breathed in another body-wreaking breath. Air came harder now. His chest hurt with every breathe he took. Thorin, however, remained serene. His eyes gazed far away into the sky

"My mother said I was born with fireflies above me. Do you think there would be stars in the afterlife?"

"A dwarf," Bilbo said with a smile, "hoping for stars. I have never heard of something stranger."

"Indulge me."

"Yes, my King. Mahal wouldn't be able to refuse the greatest of his sons."

"Flatterer," Thorin said, a smile upon his lips and pain in his voice. "I wish nothing more than a chance to make amends to you."

"You have done me nothing so grievous, King Under the Mountain."

Thorin fell silent. "Thrice, have you called me King," he said, turning his head so he could look at Bilbo in the eyes. "Twice, have you called me yours. Do you truly mean that?"

"Yes," Bilbo said, closing his eyes to conceal the longing and pain. "You are the one I would follow anywhere, had the Valar permitted me to do so."

"Then Mahal would hear this from me: I would not be parted from my burglar, even in the afterlife."

"Don't be ridiculous, you silly dwarf," Bilbo chided, even as his dying heart felt as if it could leap out of his chest.

"I do not jest, master burglar, as you surely have known that for months now."

Thorin intertwined their fingers, and brought their hands up with all he could so they could rest between them. Bilbo looked at it, feeling as if it was a promise. He looked up then, and his breathe was taken away at the sight of Thorin's heartfelt gaze.

"I, Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, hereby pledge my heart, soul and body to Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire, with the promise to cherish him forever and more. My heart would be unmoved and strong as stone. My soul would be his to take. And my body would be set in stone beside him to rest until the world is renewed."

Thorin's voice almost faded at the end. Bilbo sobbed painfully. The time. Their time was not long, so he swallowed and returned the pledge.

"By the grace of my Lady Yavanna, I, Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo, am now tied to Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór. As long as I walk this earth," Bilbo stumbled and sobbed, "I would not let go of him. For the rest of my days would be spent beside him, until time and destiny have us departed for the Halls of our Makers."

Tears joined the crimson blood on Thorin's cheeks. He slowly took a clasp out of his hair, his breathing growing laborious with each movement. Bilbo knew what he wanted to do, so he took out the tiny golden band he found in the Goblin Town. Thorin gave him a small smile and put the clasp into his hair, clumsy it was.

"There," Thorin whispered. "Now you look more like a dwarf, and Consort Under the Mountain."

"I am no dwarf, majesty," laughed Bilbo. He held out the ring for Thorin to take since it would not fit into either of his fingers, and there was no way he was putting the magic ring into his new husband's finger. Nobody would find him then.

But Thorin slipped it into his smallest finger. It did not go all the way, only at the tip, and a burst of warmth flooded Bilbo's chest.

They lay there for a few seconds of silence, and Bilbo heard the voice of Fíli and Kíli shouting Thorin and his name. They would be fine. The Company was whole and hale, too. There was nothing he could be worried about. He thought of Bag End, of the Shire, the rolling hills, the fresh air, and the fantasy of having Thorin in his hole as they grow old together.

"Ready for another adventure, husband?" Thorin asked. Bilbo turned and saw the small smile that spoke of how much he was loved upon Thorin's lips.

"You dwarves," he chortled painfully. "Destroying the tranquility of a respectable hobbit and kidnapped him for an adventure all over Middle Earth. I suppose another one with my husband this time is not going to be as bad, as long as I have my handkerchief and there are no trolls and orcs."

Thorin's fond laughter rang in his ears as he breathed his last air, and his smile was the last sight Thorin saw.

That's how the Company found them; hands clasped tightly between them, their foreheads touched, and traded items of marriage in the customs of dwarves and hobbits on their person.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: My first fic for this year and for the Hobbit fandom. My knowledge in the universe of Tolkien is severely limited (haven't watched the BOTFA), so forgive the amateur and dumb mistakes if any. Dammit, I want to rant about this ship but I don't want to annoy anyone SO THERE YOU GO. If anyone wondered how this fic happened, well just think that Bilbo gave his mithril shirt to either of the two brothers so they survived. Inspired by this short, painful comic on Tumblr. If anyone's interested, ask.

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

I don't own anything.


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